


Until Our Last

by Oblivion_Wanderer



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, elias/jonah being gernerally awful, heavily inspired by Once Upon A Time (In Space), post 160
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22502341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oblivion_Wanderer/pseuds/Oblivion_Wanderer
Summary: Once upon a time, under the skies of an apocalypse (or eye-pocalypse as it was referred to in morbid jokes), there was an Archivist. There was a Poet. There were the allies who banded together in the wake of chaos.
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 12
Kudos: 44





	1. Prologue: Once Upon An Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so- *claps hands together*
> 
> Firstly, this is inspired by/based off [this post](https://hidden-page.tumblr.com/post/190545340912/me-what-i-really-want-is-a-fic-where-jonah) that I saw on tumblr a couple days ago. Basically it comes down to the fact I could not get it out of my head and, after a listen to the Mechanisms album I'm about to mention, starting writing something of that nature. So, welcome to the Once Upon A Time (In Space) AU! Kinda. (more accurate to say this is heavily inspired by the album, as well as mentioned post)
> 
> It's set within the TMA verse, set post 160, and the plots won't exactly be following the same, but the basic gist is that Jon gets captured and taken back to London, Jonah intending to use him for his power, and it's up to Martin and the others to form a resistance and save him.
> 
> Also... I... have not yet decided if I am going to go with the sad ending. idk still thinking about it. I'm still kinda laying things out, but I've got a basic idea of where I'm going.

Once upon a time, under the skies of an apocalypse (or eye-pocalypse as it was referred to in morbid jokes), there was an Archivist. There was a Poet. There were the allies who banded together in the wake of chaos.

They had a plan, some semblance of one anyway. The Dread Powers were fully manifested now, so the damage would never be fully reversed, considering the Fears were already present in the world before it all fell apart, in their own little ways. However, maybe something could still be done about it and the damage reduced to an extent. In any case, it came down to focusing on a common enemy. Though they knew they could not do it alone; they needed each other and all their forces.

So they left their sanctuaries to meet.

The leader of this group, the Archivist, returned from Avoch to find his friends, bringing his lover, the Poet, with him. He also brought a Hunter he had reunited with along the way. Three more of his allies traveled up from London, the epicenter, to aid in the mission.

They all met in Oxford, and discussed their plans. They were all nervous, and knew full well what they would be walking into upon returning to London, but agreed that this was what they had to do. The plan was set and mutually agreed upon. Following this it was decided they would return to London the next day.

Later, in a quiet moment away from the group, the Archivist made a choice, and asked the Poet to marry him.

“If this goes sideways, if everything starts to go wrong- if we- we can at least die together. And if we do, I would rather it be knowing I was yours.”

The Poet took the Archivist into his arms and kissed the top of his head.

“I-I think I’d like that...”

Informing the group of this decision, there was arranged a small ceremony; not anything official, but a moment of peace. They gathered at the Meadow Walk that ran along the River Thames. As the Archivist held hands with the Poet, he thinks that even when the world’s gone to hell, he can have this moment. He and the Poet can both have this. They were each other’s anchors. They were each other’s light.

And then the enemy- the Watcher- decided to intervene and throw a wrench into the works.

This foe- they knew him as Elias once, but now they knew him as Jonah Magnus. He was a man who served the Eye, and had been the one to use the Archivist as a catalyst for the ritual that brought the apocalypse. It had been intended from the start, as Jonah had carefully orchestrated and watched the Archivist’s progress; a man first marked by the Web, and over time marked by others. Jonah’s true intentions did not become known until it was too late, and it was the Archivist who suffered as he unwillingly brought chaos.

And even in his pain and guilt, the Archivist knew that Jonah had to be stopped.

But the Watcher had found them. Not only that, but he had sent three avatars after them: Flesh, Buried, and Stranger. They had come for the Archivist.

In the quiet, they had let their guard down. What was supposed to be a simple wedding ceremony was thrown into disarray, and the group was scattered.

The Poet had tried to escape with the Archivist, trying to use his old vanishing trick to shake the three avatars. The Poet had been marked by the Lonely, and had once been stuck in its realm. Though it was the Archivist who rescued him from that place, the Poet still retained some of the Lonely’s influence. He intended to use this to help him and the Archivist get away… but it didn’t work out like that.

The Archivist stumbled and his hand slipped from the Poet’s. It is unknown if he got caught in a trap set by the Buried, or if it was just a coincidental slip. The Poet tried to go back, but the Archivist told him to keep going- “I’m right behind you!”. The Poet assumed this was true and kept going, pulling in the mists of the Lonely to hide them. But when the veil surrounded him, he looked for the Archivist, believing he was still there. The Poet did not see him though, and he found himself alone in the fog without his love.

As for the others…

They had tried to fight, but the three avatars outmaneuvered them and forced retreat. When they reconvened with the One Who Could Not Feel Fear, they discovered the Archivist was gone, and the Poet was nowhere to be found either. Before they could even search, one of the three avatars chased them further away. The Distortion saw their plight and allowed a path for them to escape, but leaving with their fair share of wounds.

And so it was.

The Archivist captured, to no doubt be returned to London.

The Poet vanished, his love stolen.

Their allies separated from them, chased away.

And somewhere, the Watcher smiled.


	2. Derailed/Damage Report

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon's gone, captured by three avatars, and Martin's left behind. But... he's gotta do something? Right? 
> 
> Meanwhile, separated from Martin, Georgie and the others are left to regroup... and figure out what the hell just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually having fun with this fic?? Also as I write this, I keep planning things and it's kinda spiraling out of control lol (I mean, what else am I supposed to do at work besides daydream of fics and listen to podcasts).
> 
> EDIT 2/19/20: Previously I had divided this part into two different chapters, but at the time of adding this note, I have decided instead to put them back as one whole chapter.

_The Poet eventually emerged from the fog to search for the Archivist, hoping he was just hiding somewhere. Unfortunately the Poet did not have the gift of Knowing like his love. Still, even as he retraced his steps back along the Meadow Walk, rain coming down from the skies, he knew the truth. He knew the Archivist was gone._

_His friends were nowhere to be seen either, and for a brief moment he pondered what had happened to them. Had they been captured as well?_

_The Poet realized was alone once more, without his friends and without the Archivist._

* * *

It’s still raining, and all Martin can bring himself to do is stare blankly out the window. It had raining since he lifted the veil of fog to search for Jon. He called out for the archivist, hoping that he was just hiding somewhere. Martin didn’t find any trace of him, or Goergie or any of his other friends for that mater. The only thing he found that pointed to Jon was his glasses; one lens cracked. 

There was a note tied to the glasses though, and the text on it simply read, “Warm regards from the Eye.”

Elias- no, Jonah.

Martin had already crumpled up the accompanying note and tossed in a trash can after arriving at the inn. He didn’t want to see the words of it that were written in Elias/Jonah’s handwriting. Martin had Jon’s glasses set on the table in front of him, as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to Jon. Well, it wasn’t the only thing...

Absently, Martin twists the ring around his finger, the ring that Jon gave him. It wasn’t anything fancy, just something from a shop that sold stones and crystals. The shop had some stone rings as well and he and Jon had agreed on simple steely colored hematite rings.

“I’ll get you a proper ring when this is over.” Jon had said to him, even though they both knew that day might not come, not with the mission they had been preparing to undertake. Still, Martin had smiled. The hematite rings would still remain a symbol to them both; a symbol of the choice they made in the face of the apocalypse.

In a way, the ceremony they quickly put together was also a symbol of that. After all that had happened, they could still find happiness. A sort of “screw you” to the Watcher. Martin had known then that this was only a temporary respite in the storm of all the weirdness and fear around them, but he was going to cherish it all the same. Their friends supported this decision, and even Georgie said she’d officiate it (though he didn’t know if she was joking about that or not).

But then, Jon got this anxious look across his face and started glancing around as if he sensed something. Looking back, he had probably picked up on the presence of those three avatars on account of his Beholding powers. Not that it mattered now.

Martin checked his phone to see if anything had come in from… well, anyone. Daisy, Basira, Georgie, Melanie- he hadn’t heard from any of them since they were separated. No messages from any of them, but all he could do was hope they had all gotten away safely. He’d tried to get away with Jon, but… Martin had lost him as well.

One slip- he let go of Jon. That’s all it took.

Martin looks up from his phone and out the window again, looking out onto the street. The rain outside falls at a steady pace. He was currently staying at an inn for the time being, still in Oxford. He’d been able to get himself a room fairly easily, as he had some extra money stashed away from his time working with Peter Lukas. The point in staying here was partially on the chance any of the others were still around, but so he could figure out what to do now; process what had happened a few hours ago.

After a moment he types out a message for Daisy. If she- if any of them- were out there, he should at least inform them that he was safe. After he hit send, he stood from the chair and grabbed his coat, umbrella, and key to the room. Maybe a walk about would help a little, even with the weather. He didn’t mind rain half the time, and he couldn’t just sit in front of a window brooding forever. That would be an easy way for the Lonely to tempt him again like a siren’s call.

That wouldn’t help Jon either.

Slipping his coat on, and with the items in hand, he headed outside and into the rain.

* * *

In the month that followed the ritual, the world had changed. The Fears already would occasionally find their way into the world, and the ritual allowed them to manifest fully. Oddly enough, even if it was an apocaplyse, Martin felt as if the world just became more weird. Some places adapted, some became less than what they were, some were left empty. Back up in Scotland when he was still there, Avoch maintained a sense of how it always was, despite all the fear in the world. From what Martin had heard from Georgie, London had become a strange place. She and Melanie had been managing, but it had changed.

Oxford didn’t seem like it had been ravaged as much as say… probably London. Rather, it was like the place was attempting to try and continue on as much as it could. Martin didn’t see many people out and about, likely on account of the rain. He opened up the umbrella and started to walk down the street.

As he walked, hoping to find a place where he could get some tea, a memory rose in his mind from the three weeks (before the ritual) he spent with Jon in Scotland. They had gone into town for lunch and on the way back to the cottage, they had gotten caught in a sudden spell of rain, and without an umbrella.

They had hurried back to the cottage, though in their haste, Jon had tripped and fell into a puddle. Martin, of course, had helped him up, Jon insisting all the while that he was fine. He was shivering slightly though. Then they had stood there for a moment, just looking into each other’s eyes, and Martin had taken the opportunity to kiss Jon. It was a bit of a cheesy thing to do, but when they parted, Martin had seen a smile on his face. He looked lovely then, even with his rain soaked hair sticking to his face.

By the time they got there the rain had soaked through their clothes. They’d spent a good portion of the afternoon cuddled up on the couch to warm up; the fireplace crackling nearby. They hadn’t said much of anything to each other for a while, but Martin hadn’t minded. Just having Jon near, hand intertwined with his own, was enough.

It’s a cozy memory, and Martin wishes he could return to that time. Avoch was far from home, in the Highlands of Scotland, but those three weeks there in that cottage were some of the best days of his life. It was a time for them both to heal, to live, to love. He missed that time.

He missed Jon.

Martin pauses in his steps, listening to the rain falling around him.

‘ _He said he was right behind me.’_ Martin thinks, remembering the ambush. He remembers Jon’s hand slipping from his. _‘I thought he was still with me. I ran thinking he was there. I should have gone back.’_

It was too much like when he had gotten separated from Tim and Jon during the Prentiss incident-

("No, I mean... I'm sorry I left you."

".....Oh Martin."

"It was an accident. I thought you were with me! I mean, the worms came at us, and they were so much faster, and then there was the gas, and the running, and I just... I, I thought you were right behind me. But when I turned, you were gone. You were both gone. It was an accident."

"I know. It's fine, Martin. Everybody's… Everybody's fine...")

-but this was different. Everything was not all right. This wasn't Prentiss back from the dead. This was much, much worse.

Tears come to his eyes, thinking back to that moment and what could have become of Jon. Martin wipes the tears away and continues walking.

* * *

By some stroke of luck, Martin had come across a shop that sold tea. It made him feel a bit better, though he still wished Jon was here with him. While he did get some tea, he didn't stick around the place long. With the world changing with the emergence of the weird, Martin had seen some eople change and embrace a fear like something that was always there. Here, he suspected the barista who gave him his tea was a Web avatar, though if they were they didn't bother with him for some reason. Maybe they could somehow recognized that he was one marked by the Lonely and didn't want to deal with that.

After leaving, he walked around for a bit more, and he started to think more about what happened, reluctantly replaying the memory of the ambush in his mind. He should have figured this was Jonah’s doing. What were the chances three avatars just so happen to show up in the same place and decided to attack them? This had been a coordinated attack.

Now, Martin wouldn’t put it past other avatars to recognize Jon for what he was; being aligned with the Eye anyway. He’d gotten the impression over the past couple years that the Eye wasn’t very well liked by much of anyone outside of those who served it. Even Jon hated the Eye, for all it’s done to him; for all that Jonah and the eye did.

Jonah… He had exactly what he wanted now, but…

‘ _Figures_ _t_ _hose three avatars ha_ _d_ _been sent by Eli- Jonah.’_ He reasons. _‘They attacked all of us, but they were there specifically for Jon,_ _at the request of Jonah._ _Why?_ _It’s been a month since the ritual, but does he see Jon as a threat somehow?’_

After a while, Martin goes back to the inn, wanting to get back there before it got dark. More likely any avatars of the Dark would be up and roaming around once night fell.

He’s still mulling over the reasons why Jonah would want to capture Jon as he goes back to his room and puts on some music he has stored on his old ipod. As it turned out, Jon had been part of a band in college called The Mechanisms (which, wow; that had been a shock). Of course Martin had put all of their available music on his ipod, just to hear snippets of Jon singing, something he didn’t do these days. He had caught Jon singing once though, while they were in Avoch.

Martin checks his phone as “Cinders’ Song” comes on. No messages from his friends, and he’s not expecting to see any from Jon either, given the current situation.

‘ _God, I hope they got away. I hope they’re safe.’_ He prays to no one in particular.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and hummed along to a verse of “Cinder’s Song”.

> _“Oh my love, as the cannons were a-blazing_   
>  _I looked to the stars for you, my love_   
>  _Oh my love, as the cities you were razing_   
>  _I looked to the stars for you, my love”_

He certainly felt like Cinders right now, whose beloved Rose had been stolen from her on her wedding day too. Though, thinking about why Jon was taken, Martin worried and feared about what Jonah possibly intended to do with Jon. Damn that Watcher. Couldn’t Jonah and the apocalypse let them have one shred of happiness in a ruined world? Was that too much to ask?

And then, Martin heard a slight staticy noise, one very familiar. He hit pause on the ipod and listened for it. He heard the static, and he realized why it sounded so familiar.

A tape recorder.

Martin went to where he had set his backpack and opened it, finding the tape recorder inside and running. This was Jon’s tape recorder he used for recordings. It had always been well cared for by Jon and with him taken, Martin figured he would keep it safe for him (along with a few old statements). It had been a while since Martin had heard the familiar static whir. The last times he had heard it go completely silent for extended amounts of time were the three weeks before Jonah used Jon for that damn ritual, and the six months Jon had been in a coma following the Unknowing.

Martin gave a hollow laugh. “You again? You’ve been quiet.”

The tape recorder does not respond, of course; it continues its static. Why would it turn on now? A month had passed since the ritual, and the tape recorder had been oddly quiet except for when Jon needed to record a statement. That had only been a couple times, since, because he could See and Know much more now (thanks Jonah and your stupid eye-apocalypse) he didn’t necessarily need to consume statements. He still tried not to Know though, thus the statements on those few occasions.

Martin thought back to all the times the tape recorder had randomly appeared to him, waiting patiently to hear him speak. They listened for words, statements. They listened to his ramblings. He’d even used one to record some poetry once. When it had been insisted upon any tape recorder being destroyed, they still came back, but only once Jon woke from the coma.

“You want a statement? A story?” Martin said to it. It felt silly, talking to a tape recorder that wouldn’t say anything back. “I have to save these statements for Jon, if- no… _when_ he comes back. I- me and the others- we need to save him. Something’s happened, you see...”

There’s a slight change in tone from the tape recorder’s static, almost like it reacted to those words. Sometimes Martin wondered if the tape recorders were somehow connected to Jon, or rather an extension of his Beholding powers.

Martin takes the tap recorder and sits back down on the bed, setting the device beside him.

“You miss him, yeah? I miss him too… a lot right now...”

He looks at the tape recorder. He’s not going to give it a statement, but… somehow… he wants to tell it something else. Like the ring he wore, and the glasses that still sat on the table by the window, the tape recorder was a connection to Jon. Maybe he can pretend that with this, Jon is still here. Or maybe, somehow, he could hear what was said to the tape recorder.

Foolish thought, and yet…

“Suppose I should tell you what happened. I need to sort my thoughts anyway.” He lay back on the bed, closing his eyes. “We were going to get married, you know. Not anything fancy, but… Jon just felt that, should things go wrong when we go back to London, that at least we’ll have each other. He was willing to take my name too, and, you know that does have a nice ring to it; Jonathan Blackwood. Heh…

“He… Jon hasn’t been well since the ritual. He’s trying, but it’s- it’s just been hard for him. He’s blamed himself for a lot of what’s happened, and I can only imagine what’s been going through his head.”

It had been rough for a while after the ritual, and of course Jon had ultimately blamed himself. They had talked about it once Jon was ready to, and it did seem to help, but Martin knew it still weighed heavily on him. The ritual had definitely changed Jon as well. Often times the archivists eyes glowed a sickly green color, and his hair had far more streaks of gray in it. There were still times when Knowing and Seeing became too much, so Martin would put a blindfold over Jon’s eyes until it passed. Jon was much more fragile now, and it hurt to see him in such a state.

But there was also anger, directed at Jonah. He had forced Jon to read that statement, knowing he wouldn’t stop. By that time, Jon had been in need of a statement anyway, and Jonah probably counted on that.

“Then we came here, and he asked me to marry him- Of course I said yes. I hadn’t seen him that happy in a while, not like he was in that moment. I wish for just once, we could have something happy like this, but of course something had to come along and ruin it. Our group was holding a small ceremony on the Meadow Walk and we were getting ready to say our vows, and… and that’s when it all fell apart.

“I’m fairly certain Jonah sent those avatars. There were three of them. I think they were… I want to say Buried, Flesh, and Stranger. They attacked us and we all got split up. Me and Jon tried to get away, but… I-I guess he tripped? I’m still not sure what actually happened. Maybe he tripped, caught his foot on something, maybe the Buried avatar set a trap. I don’t know. It still comes down to me trying to help him up, and he just tells me to run. He told me he would be right behind me. So… I- I did. I thought he was there with me; he was right there! But I tried to hide us in the Lonely and when I called his name he was gone. I tried to look for him, but all I found were his glasses...”

Martin paused in his monologue to take a few deep breaths. Remembering finding the glasses and the note attached just made the sadness well up again. It only reminded him that Jon was gone.

“Sorry… So yeah; I’m sure this was Jonah’s doing. He found us, he sent those avatars after us. He took Jon. I’m scared… thinking about what they’ve done to Jon; what Jonah intends to do. But, that does make me wonder why. The ritual’s done; he used Jon to do it. You know how, right? Hid an incantation in a statement, knowing Jon would read it. As awful as it sounds, Jonah doesn’t need Jon now that he’s gotten his ritual. So what other plan does Jonah have that requires Jon? That’s… I gotta figure that out. I can only hope that whatever evil plan he has in mind, he needs Jon alive for it. I refuse to believe Jon could possibly be… um, d-dead.

“Then there’s Georgie, Melanie, Daisy, and Basira. I don’t- I don’t know what’s happened to them. Last I saw, Daisy was going on the defensive; not surprising for someone of the Hunt. I’m sure she kept them all safe, wherever they ended up. I tried to send a message to Daisy, but I haven’t heard back from her, or anyone else. Maybe Helen helped them get out; she did give them passage to Oxford in the first place. Well, except for Daisy since she came down from Avoch with me and Jon. I doubt they know what’s happened to me or Jon, but I still sent a message to let them know I’m okay…

“...I’m not okay, not really. I’m not injured at least.

“I need to get back in contact with them; find them, somehow. And I need to figure out what Jonah wants and how to get Jon back. Wish it were that simple. I think though… I at least know where he was taken. If this is Jonah’s work then Jon’s been taken back to London. Maybe that’s where I need to go; start there. London’s probably in worse shape than Oxford, but what else am I supposed to do? I want to wait for a message from the others but I can’t stay here forever.”

Martin knew that. He knew that he couldn’t hide here waiting for things to happen. That wasn’t going to help Jon. He didn’t have all the pieces together yet, but he knew, he felt, that Jon would be in London. Maybe at the Institute even. Martin knew what was down there beneath the surface; the Panopticon. That could be part of it too, whatever Jonah was planning.

Martin wanted to find his friends, yes, but he needed to do something.

“I need to think about this a bit more.” He says, both to himself and to the tape recorder as he opens his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. He twists the hematite ring around his finger again. “I don’t have the full picture yet, but I think I should start by heading back to London. Tomorrow, I think. I won’t be able to do anything for Jon if I don’t have a plan and if I’m not rested. But I am going after him.

“Jon, I don’t know if you can hear me through this, but I’d like to think you could. Just know I’m coming for you, alright? Hang in there; I’ll find you.”

After a moment of silence, the tape recorder clicks off. The static ends.

Statement ends, as Jon would say.

‘ _I will find you, Jon.’_ Martin thinks to himself; a silent mantra.

* * *

_For the time being, we turn our eyes toward the others, having fled via a passage from the Distortion. This small group was lead by the One Who Could Not Feel Fear, who had once offered the Archivist shelter. There was also the Hunter, the Seer, and the Blade, all of whom had worked alongside the Archivist and the Poet._

_For now they take shelter, in order to let their wounds heal. They are safe, but they don’t know yet what has happened the two who were lost in the fray._

* * *

“No signal.” Georgie mutters, putting her phone back into her coat pocket.

A hand settles on her arm in response. “You honestly think any sort of cell signal would get through here?”

She turns to face Melanie. Her girlfriend has a scrape across her cheek, but that’s the worst of it, fortunately. “Should have figured as much. Are we absolutely sure those three can’t find us here?”

“Oh, don’t you worry about them.” Another voice calls, slightly distorted. “They can’t come through the door unless I let them.”

Georgie turns and finds Helen standing behind her, a slight smile on her face. She’s heard about this person from Melanie, although Georgie did regard Helen with a bit of suspicion. It wasn’t that Georgie was afraid of her- no. Georgie hasn’t really been able to feel fear for a while now, but it was more accurate to say that Helen was eerie. Her blond hair seemed to curl at the ends, like spirals, and her unnaturally long fingers almost looked sharp somehow, like blades.

“Thanks again, Helen.” Melanie says.

“Of course. It would be a shame for any of you to die at the hands of the Flesh. I’ve heard it’s unpleasant, depending on the situation. Condolences on your wedding, though.”

“Not ours.” Came a grunt from Daisy. She was next to Georgie, on the floor propped up against one of the many doors, with Basira at her side. “Jon and Martin’s wedding.”

Right. The wedding.

The plan had originally been to meet up with Jon, Martin, and Daisy somewhere that was not London to discuss what to do regarding Jonah. They’d decided on Oxford for their meeting place and Georgie asked Helen to provide herself, Melanie, and Basira a quick path to the location. Georgie and Melanie had been planning on returning to their flat after and wait to meet up with the others the following day before heading out to the Institute.

While they were in Oxford, drawing out their plans for London and getting rid of Jonah, Jon had apparently asked Martin to marry him. Georgie was happy for them, truly. She had listened to Jon ramble on about Martin on several occasions and was glad Jon had finally been able to do something about it. She was glad they had each other, and she thought Martin was good for Jon.

It was agreed that a small ceremony should be held, and- well, Jon looked happy. Both he and Martin looked happy, but especially Jon. All the worry, fear, and stress seemed to melt away from her friend for that brief moment.

So, yes, there was a wedding, and it was going all well and good until apparently some avatars had decided to crash the party.

“Ah, yes. I didn’t see either of them with you.” Helen points out.

“That’s because we all got separated when those avatars attacked.” Georgie replied, a tad bitterly. There had been three of them, she recalls. She and Melanie had gotten separated from the others, an avatar of what she assumed was the Stranger chasing them for a time. Georgie was able to guide Melanie through its trickery and eventually lost it. They both found Basira and Daisy after, before being chased away by an avatar of the Flesh and then finding Helen.

That was how they now found themselves hiding out in what appeared to be an endless corridor. They were trying to recover here for the time being, but Georgie would rather be home instead of here. Not only could she better help anyone wounded there, but it concerned Georgie that they were practically in Spiral domain. Helen apparently had reign over this pocket of space, though Georgie didn’t fully trust the strange woman. She’d heard Jon read a statement about the Spiral once.

“Buried avatar went after Jon and Martin.” Daisy spoke again, her voice trailing off as she decided to lean her head on Basira’s shoulder. Basira reached for one of Daisy’s hands, holding it carefully in hers. Daisy had gotten more roughed up than the rest of them, mostly from fending off a Flesh avatar.

“Anything from either of them?” Basira asked.

“No. Not that I expect to be getting any messages in here, much less trying to send one.” Georgie takes her phone from her coat pocket and checks it again. “No signal still.”

“Right. Just our luck we try to do a wedding and the apocalypse decides to cut in with three avatars.”

“Maybe it wasn’t just coincidence.” Melanie suggests. “I may not be able to see, but I know there’s still eyes in the sky. Literally. Do we really think it just so happened to be three avatars that attacked us at once? And they split us up too. One went after me and Georgie. One for you two.” By this she meant Daisy and Basira. “And, Daisy; you said you saw go for Jon and Martin.”

Georgie saw Daisy give a silent nod, her eyes still closed, but indicating she was listening.

Melanie continued. “This feels more like a coordinated attack.”

“...Do you think this was Jonah’s doing? Did he send them?” Basira questioned.

“I don’t know. Maybe”

Georige would admit there was some evidence to support her theory. It didn’t just feel like some random encounter with someone who had been touched by the Dread Powers. Not to mention there were three of them. Nothing about what had happened felt random. There was more to it.

“I agree with Melaine.” She said. “This wasn’t happenstance; there had to be a reason.”

“I’ve been thinking about that too.” Daisy muttered from where she leaned against Basira. “ Like Melanie said, there’s eyes in the sky. It’s been a month since the world went to hell, who knows what Jonah has done since then. We know he’s aligned to the Eye too, like Jon.” She sighs. “Should’ve kept my guard up earlier.”

“It’s not your fault, Daisy.” Basira insists. “I think Jon sensed something too, but there was no time. There was three of them and it all happened too fast. It was an ambush.”

“Still… the apocalypse can just fuck off. We were just trying to have a wedding.”

“I wouldn’t put it past the Watcher to try a trick like that.” Helen said, still smiling in a twisted way. “Together, you all do pose a slight threat to his rule. He’ll still take it seriously, especially where it concerns a certain someone.”

‘ _She means Jon.’_ Georgie realized. She had warned Jon- told him- to get out of the archives, even though she knew he wouldn’t. She knew he would keep poking at the mystery, and look where that got them. Georgie learned though, that Jon was not to blame for the state of the world. He’d been used against his will; Jonah had used him. The whole time, that man had been fixated on using Jon as nothing more than a tool to forge this fearful world. Though her relationship with her friend was strained, Georgie knew that now.

Wait…

If Jon still had his Beholding powers- and he did- then he may still be a target of other avatars. What Helen said too stuck in Georgie’s mind. Maybe, somehow, Jonah saw Jon as a potential threat. In that case, if those avatars had been sent by Jonah….

“It wasn’t random.” She says aloud in realization. “And… I… I think they were there for Jon. We were just in the way.”

“Could they have separated us out for that reason?” Basira asked. “Keep the rest of us busy while one went after Jon?”

“It’d certainly be easier, but- Daisy, you did say that you saw him split off with Martin. The Buried avatar still went after them, and if it managed to separate them or worse...” She didn’t want to finish what that implied.

“If this is the case, why would Jonah want to capture Jon? Jonah has no use for him; the ritual is complete.”

“I don’t know, but it’s all we have to go on, assuming that Jon was captured. Otherwise, we can only hope they got away.”

“We should try and make contact with them.” Melanie suggests. “You know, make sure they’re alive and not captured by monsters that may or may not be serving an evil eye.”

Georgie agreed with her. “Then we need to get somewhere where we can actually send a message.”

“No problem. Hey, Helen, can you get us a doorway back to Georgie’s flat?”

“Of course.” Helen replied with a wink that was slightly unnerving. How the hell did Jon manage to make friends with this one?

“Are you going to be okay to move?” Basira says to Daisy. The Hunter finally opens her eyes and nods. She mutters something to Basira as she slowly gets to her feet.

Georgie takes Melanie’s hand, and Helen shows them a door.

* * *

“Just call if you require my assistance.” Helen said as the yellow door closed behind them, disappearing a second later.

“Remind me again how you know Helen?” Georgie asked Melanie.

“Mostly through Jon, though I think he met her when she was still going by another name. I met her when she appeared in the archives one day, looking for Jon for some reason, though he was in a coma at the time, so...”

A meow sounded through the room and Georgie looked to see her cat, the Admiral, come walking out of the kitchen and to her.

“Hey.” She greeted the cat, getting down to pet him. “Told you we’d be back. Oh, don’t you worry, we’re just a tad banged up. Things didn’t go as planned.”

Guiding Melanie over to the couch so she could sit, Georgie left her girlfriend in the living room with Daisy and Basira and went to go fetch the first aid kit she kept in the bathroom. When she returned she found Admiral sitting by Melanie, and Daisy and Basira were situated on the floor again.

“Don’t wanna get blood on your furniture.” Daisy said with an attempt at a smile.

Georgie left the first aid kit with Daisy and Basira, since Daisy had been hurt the worst in the attack (nothing too serious though, thankfully). Basira asked Georgie if she and Melanie were okay, but Georgie assured her they were fine and went to go make them all some tea.

Admittedly, she was worried about the only two who weren’t with them; Martin and Jon. She didn’t know where they had ended up, or if they’re even still alive. If Melanie’s suggestions and Georgie’s own suspicions held any truth to them, then there was also that possibility that was also very worrying.

When Georgie had finished making the tea up, bringing out mugs for everyone, she heard Daisy speak up.

“Wait, I have a new message on my phone. Being in the corridors must have blocked it from coming through.” Daisy announced. “It’s from Martin.”

That got Georgie’s attention. As she sat down next to Melanie, she asked, “What does it say?”

“Martin says he’s still in Oxford, but he’s safe and staying at an inn for the time being.”

“Did he say if Jon is with him?”

“Hold on, let me message him.”

She watched Daisy type out a reply and then place her phone down while she waited for Martin to respond.

“Least we know he’s alive and got away from the avatars.” Basira said.

“We still don’t know about Jon though.” Melanie pointed out.

A few minutes passed, and then there was a small chime noise.

“We’re about to find out.” Daisy said, picking up her phone again. She stared at the screen, then her eyes went wide and she looked up. “They got Jon. Haven’t killed him as far as we know, but they got him. Martin thinks they’ll be bringing him back to London; to Jonah.”

“Shit.” Melanie whispered. “You were right, Georgie.”

Another chime from Daisy’s phone. “Hang on… Ah. Martin wants to know if we’re okay.”

“Tell him we’re back in London for now, at Georgie’s.” Basira supplied for a response.

“Will do.”

“Well, now we know what happened. But what does Jonah want with Jon this time?”

“Clearly something if Jonah’s gone to the trouble of getting together three avatars of different Fears and sending them to attack us, not to mention kidnapping Jon.” Melanie says. “What are we going to do? The plan-”

“It’s not going anywhere without Jon. We were counting on his Beholding powers to provide at least a little bit of help.”

‘ _About the only advantage we had.’_ Georgie remarks silently to herself. With Jon being aligned with the Eye, it was a bit tricky, but it was better than nothing.

Georgie puts her mug of tea on the coffee table in front of her just as Admiral crawls onto her lap and she pets his fur. “We should talk to Martin first. We all need to figure out what to do.”

“Yeah, figure out how to get Jon back.” Daisy muttered, her eyes narrowed.

Basira nods in agreement. “Besides, Martin’s gonna need us. I highly doubt he’s going to wait around and do nothing. This is Jon we’re talking about. Also, whatever Jonah’s up to this time, you know it can’t be good.”

Georgie was aware of this; the state of things now. Jon taken to be used in whatever Jonah’s evil plan was this time. Martin was likely distraught about Jon. The whole plan was stalled.

“Melanie?” She asked, turning to her girlfriend.

Melanie moved her head in the approximate direction of her voice. “Jonah’s caused us enough pain, hasn’t he?”

Yes… yes, he has.

“Right.” And Georgie made up her mind. She was aware that Jon, her friend- he needed their help. Where she stood with Jon, well, she still didn’t know, but he was still her friend. With the literal apocalypse, she was too far into this to try and back out now. “Then we go after him. We find Martin, and then we work on getting Jon back. Once we do we can worry about Jonah.”

Admiral meowed, as if in agreement, and Georgie took Melanie’s hand, giving it a squeeze. Melanie gave one back in return.

“I’ll call up Martin.” Daisy said as she picked up her phone once more. “Can’t imagine what he’s feeling right now.”

“Put him on speaker.”

Daisy did as asked and laid the phone out before her, waiting for Martin to pick up.


	3. Cold Bed of Iron Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Meanwhile- Jon finds out what his captors intend to do with him, as well as meeting with a familiar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (__Text like this__) in italics indicated Beholding related text. 
> 
> Also, you get to meet the Dread Three- who are here to be chaotic and cause problems on purpose. (also slight warning for body horror on Baxter's part bc he is a Flesh avatar and he' just that way)

_And what of the Archivist?_

_Well, it wasn’t difficult for either party to come to the conclusion that he had likely been taken back to London. That much was true. The three- from here on referred to as the Dread Three- did indeed take the Archivist to London, gifting him to Jonah, the Watcher. The Watcher praised the Dread Three for their success and told them to take the Archivist underground; through the tunnels to a certain chamber._

_Jonah had plans for the Archivist, and it would begin with the Panopticon._

* * *

There’s a static sound, white noise maybe.

And beyond that white noise… there’s… there’s something there.

He listens, tries to make it out, but it’s just a bit hard to think.

Something… something…

“… _.for you, alright? Hang in there; I’ll find you.”_

The static fades.

….

“….Martin?”

* * *

He was really getting tired of being kidnapped.

That was Jon’s first thought as he regained consciousness on a stone cold floor and realized his hands were bound upon trying to move them. Every part of him ached, likely due to however long he had been lying here, and he couldn’t see. There was something covering his eyes. Jon let out a frustrated huff and lay still on the floor, focusing on just breathing for the time being while he tried to figure out what was going on.

Last thing he recalled had been… oh God…

Jon remembered being in Oxford, and he remembered Martin braiding his hair. He had felt too damn happy because he had asked Martin to marry him, and Martin had said yes. The past month had been… difficult to say the least, and he wasn’t always in the best state of mind these days, but when Martin had agreed to marry him, suffice to say it was the happiest he’d been in a while. For just that moment he forgot about monsters and the world being engulfed by fear. Instead, he felt the light fluttering of love. His heart was so full of love in that moment.

They could have this moment before they set out on a mission which could very well be their end. If that happened… well… Jon knew if it did, he’d at least have Martin.

But they never even got through their vows. Jon remembered sensing something off, that there was something else with them. He turned from Martin and saw someone standing by a tree… but their face was… wrong somehow. That’s when he Knew what he was seeing, what he sensed, but it was too late.

It had been a Stranger avatar he had seen, and they smiled at him a second before a Buried avatar tried to collapse the ground beneath himself and Martin. Jon was able to See it in time and pulled Martin away. He caught sight of a Flesh avatar going after Daisy, but only for a second before Martin took hold of his hand and they ran. He hasn’t seen where everyone else went.

Soon after, his foot had caught in a hole, a trap by the Buried one no doubt, and he tripped, letting go of Martin. Jon remembers feeling a twisting pain up his ankle as he fell, glasses being knocked off his face. He remembers Martin trying to help him up, but Jon told him to run. Jon knew he’d slow Martin down and he couldn’t let the Buried one get Martin too. Jon had tried to keep up, but as Martin tried to pull the mists of the Lonely around them, Jon tripped again, his injured leg giving out beneath him. The Buried avatar had found him again, and the last thing he saw was Martin disappearing before the ground caved in and dropped him in what could be described as a shallow grave.

Someone pulled him up a few minutes later, only to put a blindfold around his eyes and knock him out with a sedative. He didn’t see who, but assumed it was one of the other avatars since one held him in place while the other put the needle in his arm.

Jon tries moving his hands again, seeing if he can somehow loosen the bonds. He can’t, but he does feel the ring that’s still on his finger; realizes it’s still there. It’s almost a relief, to feel the solid weight of the polished hematite band. It wasn’t anything fancy, just something he noticed in a shop, but it was enough. It was enough for him and Martin.

Martin…

He hoped Martin had gotten away. No… he Knew. He’d seen the mists of the Lonely come down just before the Buried avatar caught Jon in another trap, but he Knew that Martin had been able to get away. Good; that was good. Although…

...Did Martin even know he was still alive? What if Martin thought he was dead? What if no one realized he’d been taken and that there was no one coming to get him?

No… No. Someone would…

“Martin.” Jon whispered out to the nothing, his voice strained with the knowledge no one will answer.

He lays there for a while, for- he doesn’t know. He’s blindfolded so he’s got no sense of time. He tries to See, but it’s not working, which is odd. Since the ritual, he was able to See and Know so much. It had been a lot to take in first, to the point of pain, but he had found (with Martin’s help) that covering his eyes with something helped ease it off to more manageable levels, at least until that surge of power had settled down within him. Right now though, it was like the blindfold was actively blocking his ability to Know and See. Then again, the gifts (or curse, arguably) of Beholding weren’t necessarily useful if he couldn’t actively see. Great. No way to figure out where he is, or why three avatars decided to steal him away at his own wedding.

Jon wouldn’t be surprised if it was because they recognized him for what he was. It wouldn’t be the first time. There had been a couple avatars that picked him out on the way to Oxford. Daisy had been able to scare the majority away, but there had been one that decided to be a bit more bold. Desolation, if Jon recalled correctly.

They knew him, and knew what he was. After all, he was the Archive. The Harbinger. The one who unleashed the apocalypse upon the world. Okay, he knows it was part of a bigger scheme, but the guilt still clawed at him. He was the one who picked up that “statement”. If only he had been able to Know what exactly it was. If only he had been strong enough to stop himself.

Maybe he deserves this…

‘ _..._ _No. That’s not...entirely true.’_ Jon tells himself as these thoughts circulate around in his head. ‘ _Jonah planned all this.’_

The week following the ritual had been a harsh one. Apparently, on the day it happened, he’d been delirious over what he had done, babbling nonsensically until he passed out from exhaustion. Jon didn’t remember much of it, as it was mostly a blur. He does remember being overwhelmed by the sensations of Seeing and Knowing for nearly two days after, and then sort of shifting into a catatonic state that went on into a third day. Martin was there the whole time, and Jon had felt so guilty about putting him through all that. Martin, kind and sweet and lovely- he’d already been through more than enough.

When Jon had finally felt up to talking, he and Martin talked for a long while about what had happened. The other man held his hand gently and whispered reassurances that none of this was Jon’s fault. Jonah was the one who manipulated him, hid the incantation knowing he would read it. Jon had been used against his will, and he knew it. Jon knew Martin was right. He was grateful for Martin’s presence, for everything he’s done. It makes Jon feel even worse about how poorly he acted towards Martin in the past- Jon doesn’t deserve him. Yet he was there, and even with all the pain and guilt raging like a storm inside him, he feels love. Because Martin is his anchor, and he loves Martin.

That conversation was why nearly a week after the ritual, Jon quietly vowed that he would find a way to fix what he had unwillingly done; that Jonah would be stopped.

He has to remember that. Try to, anyway.

He does, however, wish that he could be back in Scotland right now. He wants to be back in that cozy bed and more importantly back in Martin’s arms. Instead he’s on some cold stone floor in whatever mess he’s gotten himself into this time.  
  
Jon can at least hope Martin was safe. That his friends were safe- oh God. He hadn’t seen Georgie, or Daisy, or Basira, or Melanie at all. Despite not being on the best of terms with them (save for Daisy, to an extent), Jon worried about them all the same.

‘ _Please, let them be_ _alright_ _.’_ He thinks, giving a shuddering sigh. They all have to be safe; they had to be.

Because he cannot loose anyone else. He doesn’t think his heart could take it.

* * *

He drifts off again for some unknown amount of time, not that any shred of sleep was good. The surface he lay on wasn’t good for that. At least he didn’t have any of his usual “dreams”; the ones of people reliving their trauma. It was just black nothingness this time.

When Jon does come back into consciousness though, the first thing he hears is the sound of footsteps, and they’re drawing closer.

Instinctively, Jon tenses up, not daring to move. It’s a reflex from all the times he’s been kidnapped, because, like every other time, he’s scared. He doesn’t know who’s here or what they want with him, and his Beholding powers still aren’t being much help.

“Oh? You’re awake then.”

A feminine voice, but not one he recognized. He didn’t respond to them, opting to stay quiet.

There was a poke at his shoulder, causing him to flinch. It was the same shoulder where Melanie had stabbed him after he had removed the Slaughter’s bullet from her leg.

“Come now, I’m not going to bite. Not my style. Besides, I’d be in trouble if I damage you further.”

There were hands suddenly on his face and Jon tried to move away from their touch. “L-Leave me-”

“Oh hush.”

The cloth around his eyes fell away and he realized she had been just taking the blindfold off. He winces as details of his surroundings flood his eyes, despite the dull lighting. He can make out the form of someone crouched near them, and before he can try and Know who this is, a hand is placed under his chin and tilts his head up.

The person who looks back at him has long red hair that frames her face, a curious expression reflected in her eyes. She wears what looks to be a masquerade mask across her eyes; plaid with red green and gold, and framed by black lace.

 _(__Stranger__)_ His mind supplied, courtesy of the Eye no doubt. He did maintain some of it after all, wherever he was. All the same, he wanted to get away from this person. His last encounters with avatars of the Stranger were not pleasant memories. However, he realized that this was the same person he’d seen at the Meadow Walk by the tree.

“You See what I am, right?” She spoke.

“Where… **Where am** -”

The avatar put a finger to his lips. “Nope. Not gonna work. Avatars are a bit more tricky to tear secrets out of.”

There was a smile on her lips, painted with black lipstick, and there was something unsettling about it all.

“Wh-Who are you?” Jon tries again.

“Annie Lovelace; Stranger avatar. It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Archivist.”

“Oh God, please don’t tell me you’re with the Circus and have come to exact revenge on me.”

Annie blinks. “Circus? You mean Orsinov’s gang? No, I’m not, but I heard about what happened to them; what you did.”

“Their ritual was doomed to fail anyway.” He says, though he does not say he’d ended up in a coma for nothing (except as another mark for Jonah to check off) and more importantly, that Tim had died for nothing. That is something Jon now knows, and has to live with the guilt of that as well.

“Given your patron was able to kick off their ritual, with your help of course, I guess so.” Annie lowered his head back down and stood. There was the sound of footsteps and then he felt her hands on his bound wrists. “I’m told you are the Archive now, that you’ve reached your apotheosis, so I’m indeed curious to see what he has in mind for you.”

Dread formed a knot in his stomach. Who did she- No… No, she couldn’t mean…

“Up you go.” She said, poking him and getting him to his feet.

“Wait, who are you talking about? You- You don’t mean-”

“He up, Annie?” Another voice said, rougher. Jon looked to see a man in a trench coat coming into the room, past an open door with iron bars. Had he been in a cell?

Or… forget the cell. Part of this man’s face was twisted, in a way that made him look like he had walked off the set of _The Thing_.

 _(__Flesh__)_ was the knowledge supplied to him.

“Sure is, Baxter.” Annie replied. “The boss on his way?”

“Yes. Julian is making sure everything is set. He wants to do observation on this whole thing.” Baxter turns his gaze to Jon, stepping closer. “The Archivist, I presume?”

In a fleeting moment of panic, Jon tries to break away from Annie’s grasp, but Baxter notices and reaches a hand out, placing it firmly against Jon’s shoulder, again the same one where there was a mark from the Slaughter. The contact made him freeze, feeling a tingling sensation in his shoulder. Jon dares a look and sees that the hand is just as twisted as Baxter’s face. And… oh God- is his hand melting into him? The flesh of Baxter’s hand seems to sink and melt into his own skin; not causing any wounds, but just… well…

“A-Ah-”

“I wouldn’t try it.” Baxter warns. Jon hears him, but his gaze is fixed on Baxter’s hand. It feels all too familiar to when Jared Hopworth took two of his ribs out. It’s a sickening feeling. “I watched too many 80’s horror movies and kinda fell in love with the visceral craft of the more… twisted things.”

Baxter withdraws his hand, but the ghost of his touch lingers.

“I think he’ll behave now.” Annie says with amusement. “You gave him a good scare.”

Baxter hums something and turns around, gesturing for Annie to follow, and to bring Jon with her. Jon had no choice but to comply, walking forward when Annie nudged him.

Walking out of the room, he did see that it was indeed a cell where he had been held. What was more, when he was walked out into a larger space, he instantly recognized where he was. He didn’t need any Beholding to tell him. It was a place he had only been to once, but he’d know it anywhere.

In the dim light, he could see other cells; empty and dark. Old metal scaffolding was under his feet, his footsteps echoing on it. In the center of this chamber was what appeared to be a tower, made of dark stone. Jon felt the presence of his own patron radiate through the area, only further confirming where he was, and it was just as he remembered it.

He was in the god damn Panopticon, and Annie was pushing him right toward the tower.

‘ _Oh God.’_ His heart starts to beat faster in alarm. _‘Why am I back here?’_

This is where Jonah originally attempted his ritual. This is where Martin disappeared into the Lonely. This was a place of the Eye. This was a cursed place. Jon knew if he was here, then it couldn’t be for anything good.

Reaching the tower, via more walkways, Jon was lead inside into another room. More dim lighting filled the area and he could see that there was a chair in the center of the room and a small table next to it. On the table sat a necklace, for purposes unknown (thanks Eye for being unhelpful, again). He could have sworn it was something he had once saw in artifact storage though. He also saw another person standing by the table, writing down something onto a notepad. They had sandy colored hair, and round glasses were perched on their nose.

 _(__Buried__)_ He realized; the one who had set the traps to separate him from Martin in their attempt to escape.

“Julian.” Baxter called out, clapping his twisted hand on the other man’s shoulder.

He looked up from his notebook, giving a bored sigh. “Yes?”

“Everything all set?”

“Just about. I mean, there wasn’t much to set up to begin with.” Julian looks past Baxter and to Jon. “Ah. There you are, Archivist.”

“What- What do you want?” Jon asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I’m not the best person to ask. I’m not the one with the answers here.”

“ **Tell me**.”

“Mm… Nope. Don’t even try to compel us. I must admit though; it is going to be interesting observing the effects of the Iron Rose on you.”

“The what? What are you-”

“Now, now; calm down. They’re just the messengers.” A new voice interrupted.

Jon’s blood ran cold. He knew that voice very well. He’d heard it echo in his own voice when he spoke the incantation that split the sky.

He turned, though still in Annie’s grip, and saw another person had entered the room and was walking toward him.

Jon’s voice came out in a whisper of, “Eli- J-Jonah.”

Jonah grinned. “Hello again, Jon.”

His suspicions had been proved correct in that these three avatars served Jonah, meaning their purpose in their attack had been to get him and bring him here. Jonah had probably requested it of them. Jon didn’t know what Jonah wanted from him, and he didn’t think his powers were going to help in that regard (given what happened when he tried that with Peter Lukas).

“I-I’m guessing that- that these three-”

“The Dread Three. I sent them, yes.” Jonah says, coming to a stop before him. “How long has it been? Two months?”

“Thought you would of, um, gotten bored.”

“Really, Jon, it wasn’t hard to find you. I knew you had gone up to somewhere in Scotland with Martin, but didn’t pay it much mind until it was time. I’ve been aware you and your little band of assistants would be planning something. I could have waited for you to come to me, but… I have something else in mind for you, so I acted a bit early.”

“What exactly do you want?” A drop of anger slips into his voice. “You’ve done enough already.”

Jonah says nothing, but then reaches out and puts a hand under Jon’s chin, like Annie had done earlier. The touch is cold and makes his skin crawl. The way Jonah is looking at him too almost makes it seem like the Eye itself is staring at him.

“My, have you changed.” He tilts Jon’s head from side to side, as though studying him like a lab rat. “The ritual has enhanced your abilities, has it not? Good. It’s as the Archive should be.”

Jon musters up as much defiance as he can, though he trembles. “F-Fuck off. I’m not-”

He knows damn well what he’s become. He knows he’s a monster; an archive of fear. The weight of all the things he’s caused and done sit on his shoulders. And yet… yet there’s a tiny part of him that rejects that, because he vowed to stop Jonah, did he not?

That part, Jon would like to think, is still human.

Jonah chuckles, releasing him. “You know the door is open, and the world has changed. London is no exception; it has become my kingdom of sorts in this changed world. But even so, I’ve been keeping an eye on you. I’ve watched you as your powers continue to develop, at a much quicker pace this time it seems. In doing so, I have come to a conclusion. Your powers of Beholding are quite strong now. You feel it, don’t you, Jon? All that potential inside you.”

Jon’s Beholding abilities had become more potent, yes, but he scowled when Jonah mentioned this. “I was a wreck for a week. I spent two days in pain.”

“Adjustments can be difficult, but you’re here now, aren’t you? You did have dear Martin to help-”

There’s a spark of anger at the very mention of his partner’s name.

“Leave him out of this!” Jon snaps.

“Hm… As you wish. He’s not part of what I have planned for you anyway.” Jonah turns to the Buried avatar, who is standing passively next to Baxter. “Julian?”

“Like I told Baxter, it’s all set.” Julian says. “I get to make notes on the Iron Rose’s effects, right?”

“You have the previous observation notes, but yes.” He looks back to Jon. “Put him in the chair, Annie.”

Annie took a step to the side and pulled on his arm. Jon once again tried to break free, but she held fast. Jon was cornered here. Even if he could escape, the only option would be to find his way to the tunnels; those he knew were nearby. But he was outnumbered by three avatars, not to mention Jonah.

No one was coming to save him either.

It didn’t matter either way, as Baxter came up on his other side and held him in place. Julian came over and untied the rope holding his hands together, but once his hands were free, Annie and Baxter forced him to sit in the chair. They then tied him up again; rope keeping his wrists to the chair’s arms.

“As you know, the Panopticon is a place of power for the Eye, and for me, it is a throne.” Jonah explained. “You and I have both reached our highest status of being, serving under the Eye; the Ceaseless Watcher. However, you,” He prods Jon in the chest with a finger, right above his heart where there’s a rib missing. “are the linchpin in our new world. I intend to keep things as they are.”

“Why- I- There’s nothing left-” Jon’s words jump from one sentence to another, till he finally decides on. “What more do you want?”

“To answer your question, simply this: your powers are still very much of use to me.”

“You honestly think I’ll play along?”

“You have proven to be quite resilient over the years; in time marked by every entity. But, you see, something tells me that won’t be a problem. That’s what the Iron Rose is for. Tell me- do you know what this necklace does?”

“I… Uh… T-The Iron Rose...” He taps into his Beholding powers and gleams a tiny piece of information. “Something… about sleep?”

“Correct. Named for the tale of sleeping beauty, it is said those who wear it fall into a deep slumber; capable of putting the body into a state similar of hibernation in some cases. It is thought to be associated with either the Lonely or possibly the End.”

“That’s it then? Just put me to sleep?”

“Simply put, yes. You’ll be asleep; sort of like… being in a coma again.”

Jon’s hands tightly grip the arms of the chair. While he hadn’t the faintest idea of time passing while he was in that coma before, he does remember the constant nightmares. He would rather not want that to happen again.

Jonah must have noticed his reaction, because then he asks. “Tell me, Jon. Are you scared?”

Jon remembers that he had been asked the same question before, in the very same place. It was asked just before he had gone into the Lonely to find Martin. Jon looked at Jonah now with wide eyes, and knew that the answer was still the same.

Because Jon was scared; very much so.

“Yes.”

And there was that sickening smile again. “Good.”

He was scared, because he was terrified of what Jonah wanted to used him for. It made him scared of what that could mean for his friends; for Martin.

Still…

Jon steeled himself and took a deep breath.

“Yes, I, ah- I am scared.” He managed to say. “But this- it can’t last forever. I may be a monster, but my… my friends know who else is. I made a vow that _we_ would put an end to this. And even without me, I know they will fight. I _trust_ them.”

"You really think your assistants will come to your rescue? Even with what you are? How bold." Jonah then smiled and said, “Sweet dreams.”

Julian picks the necklace off the desk and brings it over. Jon tries to move away, but he’s tied down to a chair. There’s nowhere to go. He can’t push Julian way either with his hands tied down to the chair’s arms as well. Julian put the necklace on Jon, the silver rose pendant resting against his chest. It felt… oddly heavy and cold. It must have been the metal, but he could have sworn he felt it’s coldness seep into his skin,

As this thought crossed his mind, he found that he was getting lightheaded; his vision was going and his limbs were staring to feel numb. The necklace was definitely giving off its desired effect, and he knows in moments he’ll be asleep.

Jon stops struggling, because he can’t bring himself to, and just breathes, waiting for darkness to take him. Part of him wants to cry, but he’s far too tired. He wishes he was in Scotland. He wishes he was with Martin. He wishes they could have got their damn wedding. He wishes things hadn’t gone so wrong.

‘ _I’m… I’m so sorry.’_ Jon thinks, thoughts slowing and his eyes closing. _‘Keep everyone safe, Martin. I trust you to.’_

He can’t think. He can’t see. He can’t move.

He holds onto the image of Martin sleepily looking at him the morning before the world ended for as long as he can, before that too dissolves away into nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm not sure how to properly describe the Panopticon?? (I'm going off my own conjecture from what I remember about it)
> 
> Also I just made up that artifact for the sake of things. Julian in particular is fascinated by the things in artifact storage.
> 
> Another note: I'm not sure when I'll update this next, as I am working on a project for.... a thing. I'll have it up as soon as I can ^^


	4. A Spider's Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin learns that recent events have caught a certain avatar's attention, and this particular avatar has some information to offer him.

_The Poet was marked by the Lonely, yes, but in another life he might have made a fine agent of another; of one who weaves and calculates. Of course, this was not how things ended up, but he still proved to be of interest to a certain avatar. Both himself and the Archivist were people of interest._

_This particular avatar had been carefully watching the events of the last few years, and, unknown to the Poet, had caught word of the ambushed wedding. Amused by this turn of events, she decided to pay the Poet a visit._

* * *

It wasn’t the first time Martin had dreamed of the two weeks that Jane Prentiss had him trapped in his own flat. He could never forget his encounter with the Hive Queen, no mater how hard he tried. The horrifying image of her, the very memory of her, would stick with him for the rest of his life. It made sense that the memory would seep into his dreams, torment him there. The dream comes to him still, but not as much as before.

Tonight, Martin has the dream of Prentiss again. Not good timing, given everything that’s happened. Everything in the dream happens as it normally does: waking to the sound of Prentiss knocking on the door, and then the days blurring together.

There is one difference about it this time though.

He can’t pinpoint when this specific change came into the dream, but there was a change. There was a movement in the shadows of his own darkened flat. This movement of shadow took form; twitching and shaping into something. Nothing recognizable, but there was something there. Not Prentiss- no, she had been outside the whole time; knocking on the door surprisingly politely.

Martin doesn’t pay it any mind at first, as, in this dream, he had more important things to be fearful of. But he does notice it, because there’s something different about the shadow.

The shadow has eyes. It was all eyes.

> _“He was all eyes.”_

Martin remembers the words that were spoken to him in a shaking and fearful voice.

He stares at the shadow and its multitude of eyes, Prentiss forgotten.

He knows this.

He opens his mouth to voice a name…

...and then he wakes up.

* * *

Martin woke with a start, flashes of memory of those two weeks still lingering in his mind from the dream.

‘ _Just a dream.’_ He tries to tell himself. ‘ _Just a dream. She’s… She’s dead.’_

Yes… Jane Prentiss was long since dead. She’d been weakened by the CO2 and her body had been burned. He’d given the ashes to Jon, hoping it would serve as sort of weird form of closure for him (and Jon had kept the jar, as far as he knew). The two weeks Martin had spent trapped may have left their mark, but Jane was gone. She couldn’t do anymore harm.

Martin gripped the sheets and closed his eyes again, telling himself again that it was just a dream.

There was something else too that lingered. He could have sworn there was this odd shadow in his dream. It… had eyes maybe…?

He couldn’t remember it fully though and brushed it off as another illusion of the dream.

He opened his eyes again and rolled over onto his side to reach for his phone, which was placed on the nightstand. He found that there was a new message on his phone; from Daisy. She was asking if he was awake yet. She probably wants to know so they can go over their plans.

Daisy had gotten his message yesterday after all. As it turned out, Daisy, along with Georgie, Melanie, and Basira, we all safe. They’d been able to get away from the other avatars, using a doorway offered by Helen. Thank God for Helen. They had all hid out in the corridors for a bit before returning to Georgie’s flat. It was only then did Daisy receive Martin’s earlier message. They were all safe though, and that’s what mattered.

Martin updated them on what had happened, and shortly after, Daisy had called. He had talked with her and everyone else, deciding what to do. Martin was honestly glad to hear from them again, after what happened. It was good to talk with them. They’d all discussed what they were going to do at the time, and Martin had let them know he was going to be returning to London, as he knew that’s where he needed to start. His friends had agreed, but they pointed out they should all meet up first. Strength in numbers in all that. Martin was tempted to go out alone, but knew they were right. He hadn’t been to London in nearly two months, and he didn’t doubt Georgie’s reports that things were weird there.

> **Martin** [I’m up. Didn’t get eaten by a Dark avatar or anything.]
> 
> **Daisy** [Very funny, Blackwood]  
>  **Daisy** [When you heading out?]
> 
> **Martin** [As soon as I feel more awake.]
> 
> **Daisy** [Let us know when you’re leaving Oxford, yeah?]  
>  **Daisy** [And… I know you’re upset about Jon, but we’re going to get him back. And don’t go running off to the Institute alone]
> 
> **Martin** [I need to get him back. I need him to be safe.]
> 
> **Daisy** [/We’re/ going to get him back. We’re in this together]
> 
> **Martin** [Yeah… I know. I’ll let you know when I’m off. Should have enough gas in the car to get there.]

He set his phone aside and lay there for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling. Daisy meant well, and he knew that, despite how she usually was, she was worried too. Jon and Daisy’s time in the Buried had seemed to have forged a sort of bond between them, and after Jon had told him Daisy was of the Hunt, Martin understood. While he’d been caught up in Peter Lukas’ plans, Martin was glad Jon at least had Daisy to help with all the… avatar stuff. Martin was glad she was still here now too. He was glad that he and Jon had found Daisy wandering near the cottage in Avoch.

Despite a literal apocalypse of fear, traveling from Avoch to Oxford with them both had actually been kind of nice, in a weird way. Daisy kept them safe from most of the dangers that passed (aside from that one Desolation avatar that just didn’t give a damn), she took over with driving when Martin was tired, and she helped when they needed to find another vehicle on the way to Oxford. She talked with Jon sometimes about the things that had happened, and it made Martin even more thankful she was with them.

If the world wasn’t how it was currently, a road trip with Jon and Daisy actually sounded nice.

‘ _If we survive this, maybe we can do something like that.’_ Martin thought. It was a small fragment of a dream, but there was a world of manifested fear (and an evil Watcher) to deal with first.

He got himself out of bed and changed into what clothes he had stuffed away in his backpack. He had then made sure he had the rest of his things still in his bag, as well as a couple things he was holding onto for Jon. A small bundle of statements, Jon’s web lighter, his glasses, and the tape recorder. Martin took a moment to look over the tape recorder, a constant item that had haunted them all. He remembered putting a bunch of tape recorders all over the Buried’s coffin after finding out Jon had gone in to find Daisy. Jon had come back in the end, with Daisy too.

If only the tape recorder could bring Jon back now, but all it served for the time being was some strange sort of company.

As he packed the tape recorder away, Martin heard something; a knock at the door.

He flinched, flashing back to the two weeks Prentiss had him trapped. But, no… she was dead. He remembered she was dead. Besides, it was just a single knock; nothing like the slow deliberate pattern of the long dead Corruption specter.

Martin looked over to the door, and saw that there had been a piece of paper slipped under it. He went over and picked up the paper, part of him hoping it wasn’t more taunting messages from Jonah. But no- the handwriting wasn’t the same.

And there was a wax seal imprint of a spiderweb next to a pair of initials.

> _“_ _Heard about the wedding. I know you’ll want to go after Jon, but there’s something you should know first before you do; something that might help. I’ll be down in the_ _lobby_ _.”_
> 
> _-A.C._

The message itself was vague, but those familiar letters next to the spiderweb seal rang a bell. “A.C.” could mean any number of people, but there was only one name Martin was thinking of.

* * *

The inn’s lobby was empty when Martin got down there, but he did see one person sitting alone on the far side of the room. A woman sitting on a couch reading what appeared to be a nature magazine. She wore a dark purple blouse with a long black skirt. A purple sunhat sat atop her head, slightly tilted to one side, though that did not hide the white thread of cobwebs on her temple. A spider pendant hung from her neck.

Martin took a breath and walked over to her, waiting for her to look up an acknowledge his presence. Her gaze just seemed to be still directed toward the magazine in her hands. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was reading an article on spiders.

He sat next to her on the couch, and only then did she seem to respond.

“Hello, Martin.” She speaks, not looking up.

“Annabelle.”

She smiles as she puts down the magazine, and finally raises her head to meet his eyes. Hers are a cold grey. “It’s a pleasure to finally speak with you. I’ve had you in my sights for some time, along with the Archivist. You’d make for a fine avatar of the Web, you know, instead of the dreary Lonely.”

Martin’s not sure what to say to that. “Er… thanks? But I’m, uh, not looking to serve as an avatar to either of those any time soon.”

“Hm… In any case, I’m glad to see you got the message.”

“The wax seal kind of made it obvious, but I’m assuming you did that to make sure you got my attention.”

“A little bit of my own personal touch. Seems you recognize my name easily enough though.”

“You’ve come up in some statements back at the Archives. Jon’s not a huge fan of spider related statements.”

Annabelle actually chuckles at that. “I expect not, what with the Leitner he encountered when he was young. Speaking of which, that’s exactly what I wanted to talk about; your dear Archivist.”

Martin figured as such, so he nodded in confirmation. “You heard about what happened?”

“My little spiders told me.” Annabelle lifts up a hand and Martin sees two small spiders skitter across her dark skin and disappear under the sleeve of her blouse. Normally he like spiders, but he grimaces at this for some reason. Annabelle lowers her hand and continues. “Yes, I know Jonah- he’s proudly calling himself the Warden of the Changed World now- interrupted your sweet little wedding to the Archivist-”

“Can you call him by his name? Please? He has an actual name.”

“Hm; fair enough. Regardless, you’re planning to get him back, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” He answered, not hesitating. “I mean, what else are we supposed to do? I- I can’t just leave him to whatever evil plan Jonah has! Do you know what he’s planning?”

“For all my weaving and all my observation on the Institute, unfortunately I do not know. Jonah, as well as the Institute, have become harder to observe. We both can assume though, that he intends to use Jon for something. It’ll be better if you can find a way to rescue him, as you will need him if your group hopes to defeat Jonah. I can tell you that much, not like that would stop you from going after him anyway. I can see you love Jon very much, young weaver.”

“Don’t call me that either; I’m still not joining the Web.” And after a pause, Martin quietly adds. “Of course I do- love Jon, that is. And after everything we’ve gone through…. Well, that’s why I need him to be okay.”

“Love is a powerful thing, admittedly. It’s as the saying goes; “Love is our grace; love is our downfall”. Even I cannot manipulate which way it decides to swing.” Annabelle claps her hands together. “But back to Jon and your impending efforts to get him back.”

“Do you have something that might help, like you said in the note? And… And why would you want to help anyway?”

Martin may have missed some things in the time he spent isolating himself and going along with the plans of Lukas, but he knew of Annabelle Cane and the Web. Jon had told him in Scotland that she’d been apparently keeping an eye on the Institute for some unknown amount of time, but for what reason even he did not know. The Web was one of the trickiest Fears to deal with though, and what stake Annabelle had in this was an unknown as well.

“Do you know that the Web is the only one who hasn’t attempted a ritual aside from the End?” She asked him.

“Yeah.” He replies.

“Why do you think that is, Martin? What the Web does, following the song of the Mother, is so constant that there really isn’t a need for a ritual. There was never a need for it; it was never a pressing matter. I’m sure that’s not too hard to see if you know anything about the Web. Yet, has it also crossed your mind that we of the Web did not mind the world as it was? The Watcher- foolish Jonah- has sort of ruined that for us, even if by completing his ritual he brought our Gods more into this world. We would very much like things returned to how they were, and you want your love back, as well as Jonah removed from power. There’s some common ground to be found there. Before you and your friends go off on your little quest however, I wish to offer you some advice.”

Martin wasn’t sure what she meant by “advice”, and he wasn’t fully convinced Annabelle just wanted things to go back to the way they were, but decided to play along for now. “Go on.”

“You are attempting to take on the Watcher. Even without Jon, I know you and your friends will still attempt to follow through. The goals are just a bit different now. However, it might be wise to first seek some cover before heading back to London to find him.”

“What? You mean try and make it so the Eye can’t see us? How are we supposed to do that when it’s likely Jonah’s got sights everywhere now. I mean, yeah, we knew Jonah would probably easily see we were planning on going back to London, but at least with Jon we had an advantage.”

“Exactly. Jonah underestimates Jon’s power, as he is… hm- calling him the Archive does make sense, but I prefer to call him by how I first knew him. Anyway, Jonah knew that Jon’s powers would have enhanced further due to the ritual. Have they?”

Martin reluctantly nods in answer to her question. She wasn’t wrong, it’s just that it only served to make Martin recall the week following the ritual, when Jon was in such a terrible state. Martin had stayed with him that whole time, but watching Jon go from hysterical over the ritual, to exhaustion, to being in pain from the sudden flux of his abilities, to finally an unresponsive daze had not been pleasant.

Annabelle continues. “That’s why Jonah spirited him away before your group could get any closer to London. He knows this fact. I think he may be intimidated by knowing that possibility, but he won’t show it. Now he seeks to use Jon for something. What that something is remains to be seen. In the meantime, back to the main point. Yes, the Watcher’s gaze is powerful, but I do know of something that might offer you an edge. It might be worth your time to go find it.”

“What is it?”

“My little spiders inform me that there exists a small set of jewelry that may be able to counteract the Eyes. This particular set of jewelry is infused with the power of the Dark, which is a bit of a blind spot as far as the Eye is concerned.”

“You think that will help? That we should just… forget about Jon and chase after this thing?” He exclaims. “The longer we let Jon be stuck there-”

She cuts him off. “I’m not telling you to forget about him; you wouldn’t. Like I said, you need Jon if you are to have any hope at defeating Jonah. To get him back though, it would be wise to consider having tools at your disposal. This is one of those tools.”

Martin considers this. He wants to go back to London and find a way to save Jon. there was no way Martin was abandoning him, not after he walked into the god damn Lonely for Martin. He doesn’t know if he can even trust Annabelle’s words. He does feel though, that there is some truth to what she says though. Getting Jon back wasn’t going to be as easy as simply going back to London. If there was something that could help, it might be worth looking into.

He just hope he doesn’t regret this later down the road.

“Alright. Where is this “Dark infused” jewelry set?”

Annabelle appeared pleased with his question. “Luckily for you, I heard it turned up in Nottingham recently, shortly before the Jon was tricked into reading Jonah’s statement.”

Nottingham was further north from here. He and Jon had passed the place by on the way to Scotland. Still, it was nearly three hours out from London. Could be worse…

“Did… Did you have any part it this thing ending up in Nottingham by any chance?” Martin asked.

Annabelle shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Vague answers. Great. “Right… Guess it’s up to Nottingham then. I’m going to have to tell the others, you know.”

“Of course, Martin. You’re going to need help for this quest, and your friends are there for that. Oh, also, I should mention that you will need to have other tools that may help you down the road.”

“Like what? More relics to shield against the Eye?”

“Not exactly. Do you still have the lighter I had sent to the Archivist a while back?”

“Oh- yeah. Jon always carried it around with him, which I found weird considering he doesn’t like spiders. He even brought it when we went up to Scotland.”

“Good, good. I sent it to him for a reason, which hopefully, should you be able to save him, he will figure out. You will also need the tape recorder. Now, I’m still not entirely sure how Jon’s connection to the tape recorders works, though I assume it’s mostly because of his alignment with the Eye, but based on my observations, I feel as though you will need it. If my theory is correct, then keep that tape recorder with you. I have reason to believe that when you do return to London, it will help lead you to him.”

Martin wants to scoff at that because it does sound a bit daft to think a single spooky tape recorder will help him find Jon and help save him. However, Martin does remember the tapes he put all over the coffin to help Jon and Daisy get out of the Buried. Maybe it could work in reverse as well?

“Sounds… Sounds good, I guess.” He says after taking a moment to let the information sink in.

“Good. Now, gather your friends; you’ll need them for what lies ahead.”

“And I’m guessing you’re going to go back to observing; calculating how this fits into any plan you might have.”

“Of course.” Annabelle answers, a bit too sweetly.

“Well, uh, thank you, Annabelle. If your… “little spiders” find out anything more about what Jonah is planning, can you tell me?”

“You know what I am; I’m not the best person to ask. I make no promises.”

“Right.”

He gets up from the couch to leave, but then Annabelle stands as well, making him stop.

“One more thing.” She said. “If you happen to run into a fellow avatar of the Web, say hello to them and pass on my regards.”

Martin was a bit confused by that. “...sure.”

He left the lobby and went back to his room to get his things, the conversation with Annabelle still playing in his mind. Of course he was going to tell the others of what he had learned, though Annabelle didn’t seem concerned with that. She was probably expecting it. Probably part of any and all calculations.

Or maybe she really did just want the world to go back to how it was, or something similar to it.

Either way, he had to tell the others what he had learned.

The tape recorder waited for him when he got back to his room; deciding to materialize on the bed.

“Ah. You.” He walked over, looking down at the device. “Yeah, had a nice chat with Annabelle. Wants us to go after something that might help us with getting Jon back.”

It didn’t change in it’s tone.

“… Jon, if you can hear this… I’m not forgetting about you, don’t worry, but… it looks like I’m gonna have to make a side trip before coming back to London.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annabelle: Martin, one does not simply walk into London.
> 
> I wanted to throw in a conversation between Martin and Annabelle because why not? Also- Look, we all need to know what is up with the lighter, so I have thought of an idea I'm gonna use here (but unfortunately you won't see that till much later on). 
> 
> Also, now I just want a road trip fic featuring Jon, Martin, and Daisy. (I mean I sort of have something set up like that, but there's still a fear apocalypse going on in that one, so yeah). Road trip fic where everyone is happy and nothing is wrong :)


End file.
